Sunshine and Lemonade
by Kari Anna
Summary: The fae are very touchy feely, and Sookie isn't sure she can draw the line. Vampires aren't the only ones who find a fae presence intoxicating. Rated M for sexual content. Sookie/Claude
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: This story picks up right where _Dead in the Family _left off. At the very end of the book when Dermot and Claude got in bed with Sookie I couldn't help getting considering the possibilities, especially after Claude's comments in chapter 5 about Sookie and her "beautiful points." I went searching, but apparently no one else got plot bunnies from all this.

DISCLAIMER: Charlaine Harris owns it all. It's sad, but true.

**Chapter One**

I've woken in some strange situations, to be sure. But right now I'm sandwiched between a gay fairy (no, that's not a pun) and one who was completely crazy until last night. Did I mention one is my cousin and the other is my uncle? I may be from the south, but damn! This situation is definitely elbowing its way to the top of the "Weird Ways to Wake Sookie" list.

Funny thing is that it doesn't bother me. I know it should, but it doesn't. In spite of the fact that Dermot has his arm wrapped lightly around my waist and Claude's hand is tucked between my thighs. Maybe it's a fae thing. They're very touchy feely, and I can't deny the warm-and-fuzzy peaceful feeling that washed over me when they climbed into bed with me, as weird as it is.

Scratch that. _Now_ it's bothering me.

That would be because Claude is awake too, and his lips have settled on the nape of my neck. I could kill him right now. Too bad Gran's old iron trowel is in the damn garden shed. Racking my brain for the last place I had my squirt gun full of lemon juice, I whisper, "Claude."

Maybe my voice wasn't as stern as it should have been, but don't judge unless you've been at the mercy of fae touch.

"Yes, Cousin?" he whispered back. The familial title alone should have been enough to remind him that humans found this kind of thing icky. He had lived among humans long enough.

I shifted, trying to dislodge the hand between my legs. He didn't remove it, but to my relief (and some disappointment, I'm ashamed to admit- Gran would be shocked at me) I heard his head hit a pillow and after a moment his breathing changed as sleep took him again.

The next time I woke I was alone in bed, but I smelled bacon and fresh coffee.

All but forgetting our odd midnight interlude, I followed the smell of breakfast. Both fairies turned their heads to greet me, both smiling. That should have been enough to put me on my guard. Instead I poured my coffee, sank into a kitchen chair, and tucked in to the breakfast one of them had been kind enough to have waiting on the table.

Halfway through my coffee I realized Claude was still staring at me. My eyes flicked to Dermot. Nope, just Claude. Apparently my uncle found something about my kitchen fascinating, since his eyes were continually roaming. Of course, kitchens might not exist in Faery. Or maybe they were just different.

Claude was still staring. Not creepy-creature staring, or puzzled, or even boredom staring. The kind of smouldering look I associated with the cheesy romance novels that featured him on the cover.

After all my experience with vampires and weres, who aren't particularly shy, I would have said that making me blush would be pretty tough. As it turns out, I would have been wrong.

I jumped at the shock of a sudden thought, _Thank God Eric is sleeping. How would he react to feeling all this through the bond?_

I wasn't entirely sure, but I knew it wouldn't be by jumping for joy. Stubbornly looking my cousin- _Cousin!_ I sternly reminded myself- in the eyes, I willed myself not to blush and steered the sparse morning chatter to the mindless but safe topic of my garden by pointing out the flowers growing around the window.

When I left the two fairies amiably debating the necessity of various local fauna, I waited until I was sure neither followed me to my room before I stepped into my bathroom. I slid the lock home. I'd had the not entirely unwelcome experience of Claude interrupting my shower while he himself was in the buff. That wasn't something I wanted to repeat, I told myself firmly.

The hot water melted away my concerns right up until I got out and realized I would have to venture into my bedroom in nothing but a towel. I'd forgotten to bring my work clothes in with me. None of my previous housemates had had quite this lack of personal boundaries. Now I really wished that Amelia was the only other person in the house.

Resigned to sneaking into my own room, I sighed and peeked out the door before throwing it open and tiptoeing in. I slipped clean panties on and was trying to find my work pants before my instincts proved correct. My bedroom door slid open and a pair of feet padded lightly across my floor. I didn't dare look up. I had seized a pair of pants, finally, and set to work trying to wriggle into them without revealing any of what Claude had recently told me were "beautiful points."

"You have less difficulty killing than you do getting into those things. Why do you insist on wearing them?" Claude mused, his voice full of mirth at the embarrassment he knew I felt. I refused to turn and see the contempt that might be marring his lovely features. Where was the warm and fuzzy feeling of last night? I was still wrestling with the pants when Claude's arms wrapped around me. His chest pressed against my back, and he leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Stop being a prude. You are fae enough; be proud of your body."

His kind words were lost on me until I re-ran them through my brain a few times. Fae touch isn't very conducive to intelligent thought.

"I have to wear pants to work, Claude, or at least shorts. Not everyone strips for a living," I shot back, obviously on auto-mouth. My brain certainly wasn't coherent enough to put a retort like that together.

Claude squeezed my waist.

_Jesus! _I thought, resisting the impulse to whisper Eric's name.

_Eric! Shit! _My vampire hubby wasn't going to be too happy about any of this. When Claude had moved in Eric had written a little love note to me saying that it was fine as long as no one was "in his lady's chambers." Last night there had been two someones, and now one of them was in again. And his touchy feely fae nature was getting way out of hand.

I could hear Dermot singing downstairs. That was definitely not the activity Claude's lips were engaged in.

"Claude!" I snapped, pulling away with more force than necessary. I stumbled a bit because of it, recovered, then looked him straight in the eye. I couldn't seem to find the words to reproach him, so I stormed out, yanking my Merlotte's shirt over my head as I went. Once I was in my car and halfway to work I considered calling Eric, but he wouldn't be awake for at least six hours. Besides, he might be only too happy to resolve the problem by eating one of my last living relatives. Instead I made a beeline for Sam.

"I'm in over my head."


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the sweetly twisted Sookie/Claude plot bunny. All other creations belong to Charlaine Harris.

**Chapter Two**

Sam discreetly told Kennedy to cover the bar for him and led the way to his office.

The minute the door was shut a switch flipped. Sweet Sam was replaced with Ready-to-Kill Sam. The barrage of angry thoughts swirling in his brain tipped me off to the fact that he had expected me to come to him eventually, and that he thought I had probably been hurt or used by Eric. Supe or no, he was no fan of the fang. His face displayed none of his hostility, but it took a lot of effort not to hear it from his head.

"What's going on?" he asked, mussing his red-gold hair as he often did when worried.

All at once I felt embarrassed to explain. _Maybe I should keep it to myself and tell them both that this is not right and won't be happening again._

"Sookie, whatever it is you can tell me." He was broadcasting sympathy much clearer than I usually got things from twoeys, pushing it at me in a way.

If my gaze stuck to my tennis shoes I could do this. "Well, things are getting a little out of hand with my cousin Claude." I could feel his mind relax, the violent sea of thoughts calming to barely a ripple. "How so?"

He thought Claude was an arrogant jerk anyway. Actually, Sam was dead-on with that one.

I could feel my face coloring as I replied, "He's kinda made some advances on me." Just then I came as close to stuttering as I ever had, "I mean we're not real close cousins, not like first cousins or anything. But…."

He wasn't as shocked as I thought he'd be, but then he'd seen the very tactile nature of my fae cousins. After a long moment of pondering (which I was grateful he didn't try to think _at_ me like his earlier sympathy), Sam asked, "Well if you're only distantly related would that be so bad?"

If I felt homicidal toward Claude last night it was nothing to what I felt now. "Sam!"

"Well," he said in a tone that was altogether too reasonable, "you've been with vampires a long time, and it's brought you a lot of grief. What if you tried something different, cher? Something warm, something that can get up at any hour if you need help instead of being confined to the night."

He paused. I wasn't sure if he was formulating a second part to his argument, or letting me mull it over.

"Just think about it, okay?"

Clearly, I heard straight from his mind, _I'm tired of worrying that they'll drain you dry._

Merlotte's was busier than usual, even for a Friday night. So when Eric came strolling in I wasn't able to get to him right away. Sam managed to make eye contact with me for a moment, his manner stern, as if to remind me to consider what he'd said about Claude.

I shook my head to clear it of the fresh wave of embarrassment and the beginnings of giddiness that came over me when my thoughts did slip away to the mischievous fairy in my bed- _House. My house. He's not supposed to be in my bed._

Eric fed reassurance and lust through our blood bond, surely in the belief that he was the cause of my feelings. I needed to get my head straight, and fast. Cunning enough to survive a thousand years and outsmart older vampires, I was sure he would figure out my shameful reality pretty quickly if I kept on like this.

_Damn fairy, _I thought as I approached one of my tables with a smile and a several baskets of hot, greasy fries. I directed my smile Eric for a moment to let him know I was happy to see him, though I knew he got that from the bond too. It's the little things, right?

I let the tense, manic smile drop for a moment as I power-walked to the bar to grab a tray of shots. Thank God for small mercies! The only customer at the counter was Jane Bodehouse, and she was a lot more interested in a piece of hair floating in her beer than she was in my exhausted cheek muscles. Sam, on the other hand, looked as worried as a rabbit in a foxhole. He seemed to want to say something, and I was pretty sure it would be as unwelcome as his end of our previous conversation, so I trotted away with my tray before he could open his mouth.

I finally got to Eric's table. Rather than taking his order I simply brought him a warmed bottle of his favorite type of True Blood. He smirked, eyeing me from my sneakers to my ponytail. Yesterday that look had been the catalyst of a pleasant shiver. Tonight it did nothing for me. I was trying not to remember how different Claude's warm hand had felt between my legs last night. I tried to block the fairy from my mind.

Sensing my distraction, Eric kissed my palm and then turned his attention to his phone. He must have assumed I was just preoccupied with work.

For the next half hour all I could think about was how pleasant warm lips had been on my neck rather than feeling as if ice cubes were gliding against my skin. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to keep Claude from entering my thoughts.

So not good.

When restlessness and irritation began creeping through the bond I couldn't help feeling ashamed all over again, even though Eric couldn't possibly know yet why I still couldn't focus on him now that the crowd was dwindling.

"Lover," he breathed into my ear, suddenly right behind me at the bar. His tone was caught between a growl and something resembling a purr. "Is something… wrong?"

Again I found myself missing the shiver his proximity should have caused.

"Can we talk when my shift is over? I'll be through in forty-five minutes."

"I will wait."

On pins and needles I was not. I'd rather wrestle an alligator barehanded than update my fang-happy hubby on what transpired in my bedroom over the last twenty-four hours. Especially since the crux of the problem was sort of a delicacy to vampires.

Forty-five minutes later Sam was mouthing, "Think about it!" as I walked out the door with Eric.

"So, my lover, are you ready to discuss what is bothering you?"

Always so straight to the point.

Unfortunately I still hadn't thought of a way to put it that I felt sure wouldn't piss Eric off. Still, I had to own up to my part. "I'm confused." After a moment's hesitation I added, "You know how I feel about you. But I feel like I'm changing in some ways that maybe you don't necessarily want me to, and some things have happened between…."

I didn't want to bring Claude's name into this, especially after Eric's fangs popped out.


End file.
